And Then There Were Two
by qu1rkp4r7y
Summary: The Wendigo. An ugly little bastard who has a thing for human flesh. Sam and Dean thought this would be a nice break from all the demons and angels running around, so they took the case. They knew where it was, they knew how to kill it, and they knew how to not get slaughtered by the ugly son of a bitch. Destiel. Takes place mid-season 7. As accurate as possible until then.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello readers. This is a bored person writing a shitty story. All the info about loc8ions is true, the hotel they're in is real, and I actually did some digging around. I also used to live in Kaysville, so this is pretty damn accurate.**

**Sorry I'm a perfectionist. and yes, the park they are going to floods after any heavy rainfall and is great for screwing around in**

The Wendigo. An ugly little bastard who has a thing for human flesh. Sam and Dean thought this would be a nice break from all the demons and angels running around, so they took the case. They knew where it was, they knew how to kill it, and they knew how to not get slaughtered by the ugly son of a bitch.

Sam and Dean had just found one in a small Utah town, not far from where they were in Colorado at the moment. After a few nights' research and a several hour long drive, they arrived at the town where it was.

They went through their usual routine, asking questions while posing as FBI agents until they gathered more info, bit by bit. They soon found out where the bastard was.

Armed with guns to hold it off, a silver dagger, and a flare gun, the Winchester brothers kicked down the door to the run-down house and propped their shotguns on their arms as they surveyed the place. Sam gave his older brother the all-clear, and they began making their way to the basement where the rotting door flung open easily when nudged.

Quirking an eyebrow, Dean took the lead and trudged down the stairs. Both boys nearly gagged when the vile stench of rotting flesh hit their noses like a train driven by an angry sociopath with a need for speed.

Sam ran his finger over a dusty picture frame, regrettably picking up the dirt that had been collecting on the golden frame for many years. Pressing his lips together, he turned around only to see the angry-looking pasty-faced Wendigo creeping up behind his brother. Eyes widening, Sam let out a cry and ran forward, tackling the beast just before it leapt onto his older brother.

Dean drew in a sharp breath and whipped around to see the beast dig its long claws into Sam's shoulder and rip him off of itself. Sam grunted as he was thrown off, not having any time to react before the Wendigo clambered on top of the younger hunter and raked its claws across his face before Dean fired a shotgun shell full of salt into its face.

Growling when he realized that he had packed the wrong bullets, Dean tossed the near-useless gun to the side and drew the silver blade he had hidden inside his coat. The monster simply made an odd clicking noise before wiping the blood off its face and tearing into Sammy's throat and chest. Dean let out an outraged cry and leapt forward with the long blade in hand.

The oldest Winchester brother dug the silver blade into the Wendigo's chest and threw it to the side as he knelt to cradle his moose of a brother in his arms. Sam's eyes were closed and blood had turned his new white shirt a sickening shade of red.

Dean placed two fingers on his brother's neck to check for a pulse, a wave of worry and fear rushing through him when he found none. His jaw trembled as he failed to find the faint rise and fall of Sam's chest.

Growling, Dean fired up the flare gun and lit the Wendigo on fire, rage obvious in his green eyes. Minutes after the corpse had been burned to a crisp, realization hit him and he let out a strangled groan, grief clouding his vision as he stood and began dragging Sam out of the old shithole.

_He can't be dead. It was only a Wendigo. He can't be dead,_ were the constant thoughts of the eldest living Winchester as he dragged his baby brother's dead body out of a shack that had only contained a Wendigo.

Denial. That is what Dean felt for the next few months. After three days, Castiel had convinced him to bury his brother. It hurt like a son of a bitch, that was one thing that he was certain of. That, and the fact that Cas sucked at comforting people.

"It wasn't your fault, Dean," the trench-coat clad angel spoke softly, jolting Dean out of his memories. The taller of the two sighed.

"I know, Cas-but would you please stop doing that weird-ass mind reading thing that you do? It still creeps me out." Dean murmured, tilting his head back and downing the glass of whiskey he had poured himself. He poured more of the golden-colored liquid into the cup before handing it to Castiel, who accepted it gratefully and swallowing the bitter drink without hesitation.

Shuddering slightly before placing the cup back on the desk the hunter was sitting at, he cleared his throat and began speaking; "I have a new case, most likely a Skinwalker. It's been killing pets and posing as them until they're vulnerable. It has been leaving a trail, so it's fairly new to this line in work. Should be easy enough to track down and gank. Are you in?" Dean nodded before asking where it was.

"It's in Kaysville, Utah. Its next destination should be somewhere near the big park near Laurelwood Drive. It's been targeting families who bring their pets to parks like that." Dean stiffened_. Utah._ The very name stirred the buried rage and grief that he had buried shortly after Sam's death.

He shook his head and relaxed. So what if it was the same place? Sam was gone, and there was nothing he could do about it. And according to Cas, he had made it to Heaven this time. So Sammy was just fine as he was, no fireballs and constant torture were in it for his moose of a little brother. Unless Cas was lying to make him feel better. But Cas sucked at lying, so he doubted that.

"I'll do it. Let's hit the road!" Cas nodded and grabbed his few possessions, heading towards the door. "Cas. One thing." The angel turned around. "Thanks." A faint smile touched Castiel's lips before he nodded and did that weird ass teleportation thing-hopefully to the car.

Several hours later, they pulled into the driveway for a four star hotel in Layton. It was a bit more expensive than usual, but it was worth it. The only real downsides were that it was a few miles away from the Hill Air Force Base, and that it was flooded with tired tourists just coming in from a day at the huge-ass amusement park not far off.

It was a ten-minute drive from the hotel to the park that the skinwalker was likely targeting, so that was good. And the food and wifi were free, too, thank god.

Cas had taken over the research after Sam had died, and he was currently stepping out of the Impala with laptop bag in hand.

Mere minutes later, they were trudging up the stairs to their room on the second floor. They had, of course, been mistaken as a couple, but Dean had quickly put a stop to it. Cas took the keys from the taller hunter and unlocked the room, shoving the door open and laying the laptop case on the little coffee table and his few other things on the floor next to one of the beds.

Dean found himself staring and quickly adverted his gaze, dropping his bag on the floor next to his bed and plopping down on the white-blanketed queen bed to the right of the room, groaning when he realized how tired he was. Cas lifted an eyebrow before plugging in the laptop's power supply and opening it to do some research. The taller of the two sighed. This hotel really deserved its four stars.

Castiel shook his head before turning to the computer in front of him. There was actually a lot of lore about skinwalkers in Utah, mainly in the Skinwalker Ranch to the southeast of where they were now. The angel found himself on a shitty .org website about the ranch and clicked on the "research" button.

Wow. There were a lot of books on these ugly little things. Pressing his lips together, Cas opened each book's page on a new tab and began digging for any real information.

Dean woke about an hour later. Sitting up, he was slightly confused about where he was, but that only ever lasted a few seconds before he remembered he was on a case. He rolled his eyes when he noticed that Cas was gone, neglecting to notice the note the angel had left stuck to the laptop.

"Mornin', sunshine" Dean murmured as he sat up yet again. Cas ignored him and dumped the armful of books he had most likely stolen from the library on the bed. "Cas, why did ya grab all those? We already know about these things, remember?" The angel hummed, but otherwise ignored him and plopped down on the bed, choosing a book at random and beginning to read it.

Cas tossed the last book aside just as the dawn light was beginning to shine through the curtains. He sighed, slightly disappointed but not surprised that almost all the books were absolute bullshit on the lore. Yeah, some of the stories were good, but the lore was crap in the plot-heavy ones. The only accurate thing in all the books was the shapeshifting.

One of the local Native American tribes, the Navajo, were high believers in the Skinwalker. They used to call it the yee naaldlooshii, literally translating to "with it, he goes on all fours". A popular belief was that the skinwalker had to wear the pelt of the animal, but that died out as it was an obvious tell of their species.

Their lore was actually pretty accurate. Before evolving, the skinwalkers did have to wear at least a fragment of the animal's pelt that they wished to turn into. Some still did that, if not for stronger abilities than for fashion. Some of the foxes and wolves that roamed had a thing for fur scarves and coats.

Dean yawned and checked his watch again. 7:35. At least he got some sleep while Cas was throwing those stupid books around. The angel glanced at Dean before gathering the books in his arms and flying off, probably to return them. The hunter rolled his eyes and stood, stretching, when Cas came flapping back into the hotel room.

"Damn, boy. You ready to hunt some monsters?" Cas nodded and they were off to the car. The angel did his stupid teleporting thing, where Dean just gathered his bag and the laptop and met Cas in the car.

Five miles and ten minutes of arguing about Mormons later, they arrived at the park which was full of white-bread families who had brought their kids and their pets along with them to the soccer-field-park-thing that looked like it would be fun to live around after a rainstorm.

But there were no benches. What kind of park didn't have benches? But that didn't seem to matter to all the families who were around, playing fetch with their dogs and the parents watching their kids making sure they didn't get kidnapped.

Dean scoffed at the scene laid out in front of him. These guys were about to have their lives saved by him, and if they were lucky they would have no idea about it. Those innocent assholes.

The two hunters surveyed the area, watching for any dogs (or the occasional cat) straying out of anyone's sight.

Both men decided on staying in the car, with Cas popping out every once in a while to get a bird's eye view. After almost an entire day of spying on Utahn families, they finally spotted something. Cas narrowed his eyes at a single German Shepard who had wandered into the brush and pointed at it.

"Jackpot," was all Dean uttered as he cocked his gun and stepped out of the car. The angel proceeded to abandon him with his teleport-y powers and fly directly to the dog, invisible to everyone but Dean.

The hunter jogged towards the dog, gun tucked under his belt. Cas tailed it, glancing around as the dog ducked into someone's backyard through a hole in their fence. The trench-coat clad angel turned to Dean and gave him a stopping motion and pointed back to the car. Dean tilted his head, but turned tail and headed for the car anyway. Cas could handle himself, he was sure.

Castiel continued to follow the dog, across the street and into some other family's garage, where it proceeded to shift and enter the home, presumably as the father of the family. The angel slipped through the door, still invisible, and watched as the skinwalker greeted the family's mother. He heard her ask where the dog was, but the shifter simply shrugged and gave her a quick kiss before heading upstairs.

Cas continued following, raising an eyebrow when he saw the glint of a knife in the shifter's hand. The man turned to a door in the right side of the hallway, knocking twice before opening it revealed a small girl, no more than six. She grinned when she saw what she assumed to be her father and ran up to hug him.

Just in time, Cas saw the man raise the knife and try to bring it down on the girl. The angel regained visibility and dashed over, grabbing the skinwalker's arm and twisting the knife out of his hand, sliding it away before the shifter could get to it again.

The girl let out a terrified scream as she wrenched herself away from the shifter she had assumed to be her father and ran to the corner, eyes wide as she watched this strange man in a trench coat wrestle the taller man.

Castiel grunted as the skinwalker shoved him away, fear flickering in its green eyes as the angel pulled out the silver dagger he had sheathed on a belt loop (it looked stupid, but it worked well enough). Cas lunged at the shifter, plunging the blade into its chest before it could react.

It fell, dead, and Cas turned to the girl. Tears streamed down her pale freckled cheeks, and the angel approached her only to place two fingers on her forehead and erase the memories of what had happened. He took the body and with a thought, was back in the Impala.

Dean jumped when Cas appeared in the back seat of his car, a dead body resting in the seat next to him as if it was asleep. "We need to burn it," was all he said as he watched Dean's eye twitch.

"Yeah, and while we're at it we should go to Unicorn Land where the horses have toilet-paper rolls taped to their heads and shit rainbows. Let's go." the hunter murmured, starting up the engine and driving to the nearest isolated place they could find.

Dean had paid for three nights at the hotel, but the case had washed over faster than he had expected so he figured they should stay for the two days they had left. Cas had no problem whatsoever with it, and actually stayed in the car with him the whole drive to the hotel.

"So whaddya wanna do, angel boy? There are Mormons and Christians literally everywhere you look and two huge ass amusement parks within fifty miles of one another. One of them puts up new rides every year, I think its called Legoloon or something like that." Dean said as he slammed the hotel room's door shut. Cas shrugged, tossing their things on his bed.

"Dean, we came here for a job. I had no intention of doing anything else except that. But if you want to do something, I could just 'tag along', as you would put it." Dean scoffed. Man, angels were boring.

"Mkay. Legloon it is."

"It's called the Lagoon."

"Whatever."

It was an annoyingly long drive. Dean took the long way, just to screw with the GPS and ended up pulling over after almost running over a cat and scaring the shit out of Cas when he swerved. Scoffing at the angel's little freak-out, the hunter got back on the road only to be caught in a traffic jam five minutes later.

And then it started snowing. A lot. In October. Dean groaned and pulled over again to check if the park was still open, which it wasn't. Great.

Almost half an hour later, Dean pulled back into the parking lot of their hotel and walked back to the room, irritated that the snow had cancelled their short-term plans. It was coming down heavy now, the afternoon sun completely blocked out by the angry grey clouds.

Cas hadn't said a word the entire time, not counting the squeal that had escaped his lips at the cat part, and was currently staring at Dean, waiting for him to say something. The hunter glanced his way, raising an eyebrow. "Cas, stop starin' at me. Whaddya want?"

The angel shrugged. He was waiting for Dean to make a suggestion. "Dude, seriously. Do you wanna get some food or someth-nevermind, you don't eat. We have free wifi and a TV. Wanna dick around with the computer or play a shitty movie?" Castiel shrugged again.

"Cas, what's with you? You haven't said anything since we left. What's up?" Another shrug from the stubborn angel. Dean groaned and rested his face in his hands. "Castiel. Stop this stupid silent treatment and say something! Was I something I did?"

Cas sighed. "No, it's nothing you did. I just haven't really been… talkative, lately. I apologize." Dean let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding and relaxed his tensed shoulders.

"So, you are alive. Not just some weird-ass feathered zombie." A head shake from Cas. "Dude, what do I have to do to get you to talk?" Shrug. "God dammit Cas. It's three o'clock, so I can't really go to sleep for a while without screwing up my sleep schedule even more than it already is, so what do you wanna do?"

Castiel sighed. There was no way in hell they were actually going to do what he wanted to, because Dean would almost certainly not be 'down for it', as he believed the term to be. Dean repeated his question. "Dean, I will do whatever you want. I don't really know what _I_ want to do. It's up to you."

Dean sighed and shook his head. "Fine. I say we watch shitty romcoms until we fall asleep. Well, until I fall asleep."

"I am capable of sleeping. I just choose not to." Dean cracked his neck. "That's nice. Now; what sounds better; Titanic or Reinventing the Wheelers?" Castiel almost cringed at the second title, causing Dean to laugh and put on Titanic.

Three hours later, Dean was choking on his laughter from the bad acting and Castiel simply sat there, not really giving a shit at all.

"Ah man. This movie is shit. And I could go for some shity fast foo-Cas god dammit" Cas had flown off in search for the nearest McDonald's and bought Dean a couple burgers before returning minutes later. Quirking an eyebrow, Dean thanked him and grabbed the bag.

Twenty minutes later, yet another movie had been put on the TV. Instead of watching the movie, Castiel often found his gaze drawn to the hunter on the opposite side of the room. He always averted it just before Dean looked over, but it always wandered back to the infuriatingly attractive Winchester. He hated to admit it, but he was crushing on the bastard.


	2. Chapter 2

When the ending credits were rolling, Castiel realized Dean was sleeping. Great. While he didn't necessarily need sleep, the angel sighed and figured it was a good way to pass the time.

He didn't, though. He couldn't. It had been easy the past few times he had tried, but this time he couldn't. He didn't know why.

Cas sighed. He could do anything he wanted, but he couldn't think of anything that he wanted to do that didn't involve the sandy-haired hunter sleeping in front of him. The angel took a deep breath, and with a thought, was in a bright forest on the other side of the world, leaves rustling and the light filtering through the branches. Birds chattered above, flying this way and that, collecting food and tending to their young.

He loved this place. He really did. This was his favorite place on Earth, always warm and peaceful. It was especially beautiful at night, where everything was still and silent, the moon being the only light source.

Another sigh. Human emotions were so… conflicting. He still had no idea how to act on them, either. He had spied on several weddings and dates, but he was still confused. He was so, very confused.

Castiel leaned against a tree, tilting his head back and surveying the thick canopy above him. He found himself gazing at a nest of startlingly red birds, who were being taught to fly by the largest, whom he presumed to be the mother.

She was tossing the chicks off of the branch, diving down to grab them before they hit the ground. What a strange method, just diving head-first into it. It was a good method, though, as they would eventually learn it was the best way and teach their own offspring to fly the same way.

Castiel shut his eyes, preparing to doze off before his phone started ringing. The birds nearest to him fluttered off as he tugged it out and took the call.

"Hello?"

"Cas. Where are you?"

"Somewhere in Russia, I think."

"That's nice. Get over here."

Cas sighed and hung up before shutting his eyes and appearing behind Dean, causing the taller hunter to jump. "Goddammit, Cas. I was worried. Could you please not vanish like that without leaving a note?" Castiel was confused. Dean had never had a problem with him vanishing before.

Whatever. He was probably just overreacting due to lack of sleep. Cas did, however, feel a tinge of happiness that the hunter cared enough to worry about him.

"Why did you want me to come over?" Dean shrugged. "I was, uh, worried, I guess. Wanna put in another movie or something?" Cas shrugged before nodding, propping up the pillows and plopping down on his bed.

The movie Dean had put on was actually surprisingly good. It involved a talking tree and spaceships, for one, and the quality was actually really good for a movie Dean had illegally downloaded.

Cas yet again found himself focusing more on Dean than the movie, glancing over every once in a while. His eyes dropped when the hunter looked his way, a blush making its way across his face. He saw Dean smirk before averting his eyes back to the movie.

And there was that feeling. That feeling deep in your chest, that makes it feel like your heart is vibrating. Butterflies, that's what people called it. Cas had the "butterflies". Great.

These butterflies had to be the best and worst thing that could possibly happen to Cas right now. With them came the sense of uneasiness, the nagging feeling that Dean either knew and didn't care or didn't know and still didn't care. Cas absolutely hated it.

He should probably look up why it felt that way. He would. Later, he decided. Later… Meanwhile, he should probably just focus on the movie.

Later. Castiel had promised himself he'd look up why butterflies felt the way he did. And now that Dean was asleep again, he did. It was simple, really. It was the same feeling as fear. Adrenaline. Fight or flight. Butterflies. When Cas thought about it, it didn't seem all that strange.

The name made sense. It was a fluttering sensation, and butterflies fluttered. The angel shook his head. He was thinking too much about it. Castiel shut the laptop, sighing. Stupid lousy goddamn emotions.

Two boring days of movies and fatty food later, Dean and Cas left Utah, heading back to the bunker until they encountered a new case. This case they were looking for, however, jumped up while Castiel was screwing around with a touch-screen phone Dean had bought the day before.

"Dean. Got something. Pull over." Dean complied, and the angel passed him the ridiculously large phone, a news article opened in the browser. The hunter grunted when he saw the headline; '7 LOCAL CHILDREN MISSING IN PAST WEEK'.

"Cas, this probably isn't our kind of thing." Cas groaned. "I have a hunch, Dean. Don't question an angel's hunches." Scoffing, Dean agreed to check it out and they were off to Chamberlain, South Dakota.

They ended up staying in a cheap Super 8 motel, which wasn't all bad, but certainly wasn't the best. It did have an indoor pool, though, that both Cas and Dean ignored for the most part.

Dean smirked. This case was going to be easy. Cas had already done some research, and he was pretty sure it was a rawhead. Grotesque little things, but easy enough to kill. He just hoped he didn't electrocute himself this time..

Shaking his head, the hunter pulled the taser he had in his bag for backup out and checked the batteries. When he successfully delivered a small shock to himself, he slid it back in the case and clipped it to his belt. If they were lucky, they'd find where it was today and hunt it down tomorrow.

Dean straightened Cas' tie and dusted off his own suit. This was the hardest part, asking people about their missing or dead offspring. It, to put it bluntly, sucked ass having to see the parents shed tears over kids who were probably dead or scarred for life.

He let out a sigh and crossed the street to the house of the first missing child, Cas tailing him with a blank expression. This would be an entertaining case.

Dean pounded his fist on the door before taking a step back and waiting for it to open. A short, grief-stricken-looking man opened it, tilting his head in confusion. "FBI." Dean said in a level voice, pulling out his badge and urging Cas to do the same.

"Uhm.. How may I help you, sir-err, agents?" Cas looked over at Dean. He still didn't have the hang of this.

"We'd like to ask you a few questions. May we come in?" The man, whose name was Markus Chetoya, nodded and held open the door for the two.

"I, uh, I already talked to the police. Didn't they give you the.. the, uh, thing? The statement?" Dean shook his head.

"They gave it to a couple other guys we're workin' with. We didn't get to see it. But would you mind? We need to know." Markus sighed and nodded.

"Please. Sit down." The two hunter and angel complied. "What would you like to know, agents?" Dean and Castiel glanced at each other.

"Did your son have any enemies? Or maybe any people he held a grudge against?" Markus's mouth opened slightly.

"He had more friends than enemies these days. I actually got a lot of calls from the school. As far as I know, he was pretty much the school bully." Dean raised his eyebrows.

"So he wasn't a good kid? Is that what you're saying?" Markus nodded, eyes flickering down to the floor.

"But he wasn't a bad kid either! He just didn't get along with a lot of people. I swear, I'm his only friend. When something bad happens, he always comes to me, crying." Dean hummed and nodded.

"Did he maybe have any hideouts? Like an abandoned store or house?"

He shook his head. "Not that I know of. Normally, kids don't tell their single father about hideouts for when they feel like shit."

Dean nodded and looked at Cas. "Thank you, sir. This will help us quite a lot. We'll get back to you, mkay?" A nod.

The two sat up and walked out of the small house.

"Dean. It's definitely a rawhead." The hunter nodded, still focusing on the road. "Shall I go look around for it?" Another nod. Cas hummed and zapped out. The two had gone to three other houses of missing children, asked the same questions, and basically gotten the same answers.

Two out of three of those had confirmed that their child was bipolar, and had no control. One of the houses had their twins missing, both with bipolar disorder, one with a slight learning disorder after a skateboarding accident.

Dean sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose before pulling into the hotel parking lot and parking his car.

Cas was waiting in the hotel when Dean arrived. He tossed his bag and coat on the bed, only just glancing at him. "I found it." The hunter looked over, raising an eyebrow. "He's in the abandoned gun store in the outskirts of town.

"We should really go now." Dean sighed and opened his mouth to object, when Cas touched his forehead and they were there.

"Dammit Cas! I have no way to kill it now!" Cas let a small grunt escape his lips and suddenly he was gone.

"Friggin' angels…" Dean murmured, furrowing his brow and turning around to examine the shop. It still had the guns and ammunition in it, to his surprise.

Glancing around to make sure it was safe, Dean thrust his elbow into the glass case containing the ammunition and removed a box of shotgun pellets. He was jumping over it when he heard the sound. Heavy breathing coming from somewhere behind him.

Dean narrowed his eyes and ripped the biggest gun within reach off the rack and whipped around, only to see the leathery face of the rawhead six feet behind him.

The hunter stumbled back, holding the gun as a club. He really hated rawheads. The ugly beast let out a guttural chuckling noise, stepping forward. Dean growled, holding the shotgun he had in both hands at the ready like a baseball bat.

"Cas, goddammit, I need you..!" Dean hissed as the beast lunged at him. He slid to the right and hit the thing over the back of head as it flew past.

It grunted and hit the floor before scrambling back up, a growl rumbling deep in its throat. Leaning forward, the rawhead prepared to sprint forward again. Dean wasn't ready for what it did when it ran.

When Dean slid to the side, the rawhead skidded to a stop and jumped onto his back, claws tearing at his chest from behind. The hunter yelled and attempted to throw it off by throwing himself against the wall. When that didn't work, he began trying to pry it off himself.

It was a failure. Dean was done for.

And then there was a blinding flash of light and the weight slid off his back. Panting, Dean turned around and saw Cas, a worried expression on his face.

Leaning down, Castiel placed two fingers on Dean's temple and he was healed, not one scratch on him. Another second later, and they were back in the hotel room.

To put it simply, Cas felt awful. He paced around the room, always murmuring that he could've gotten Dean killed. The hunter always responded with a soft 'but you didn't.'

After his tenth time around the room, Dean stood and placed his hands on Cas's shoulders. "Cas, you listen to me. It wasn't your fault. It was me who could've gotten myself killed. But I didn't. That's the only thing that matters right now. I'm alive, you're alive, we're both just fine." The angel sighed.

"You're right. You're fine. That's all that matters." With his mouth opening slightly, Cas looked up to meet Dean's gaze.

And then the hunter's eyes dropped to Castiel's lips for the briefest of moments. Biting his lip, Cas fought to bury the churning feeling in his stomach unsuccessfully. The angel's mouth felt dry.

And then he found his mind drawn back to the birds. Diving head-on into life, with no hesitation. Just… throwing themselves out there.

Cas's gaze was locked with Dean's. His heart was pounding. He really, really hated this feeling, yet he loved it more that anything.

Castiel suddenly realized that the distance between them was much smaller than it had been a moment ago. He didn't know what to do. The silence was suffocating, in a good way, and Dean was leaning forward to close the distance completely.

_Knock knock knock._ "Room cleaning!" Yelled a woman's voice from behind the door. Dean jumped, and Cas was gone, the beating of wings signaling his departure.

Dean sighed and fell onto the bed. "It's open." He called. The door opened and a woman in a plain white tee-shirt and dark jeans walked in.

"Sir, I'm going to ask you to leave. We're required to do a thorough room cleaning once a month, and that happens to be today. Come back in an hour or so." Dean nodded.

"Just close up the room. I won't be back."


	3. Chapter 3

**yeah**

**by the way**

**Chuck is fine**

**one of the perks of this AU**

**and i seriously have too much shit to do on saturday so update time is sunday now**

**also ive been to one con and only for an hour so this is kinda inaccurate**

**also i merged chap 2 & three because that was an awkward chapter break**

Dean was driving when the call came in. It came from his other, _other_ cell, as he said in the voicemail-thingy.

Taking his eyes off the road for no more than a second, Dean opened the glove compartment and grabbed the flip-phone from underneath a stack of master cards and fake badges.

"'Ello. Dean speaking. Who is this?" The voice that replied caused the hunter to pull over before he ran into a tree.

"Chuck? I th- Cas said you were probably dead!" The prophet said something along the lines of "angel shit on my ribs" and began explaining why he called.

'Mkay. So a few fans decided to pull together another convention. With a lot of people. Like, 1k, a lot.' Dean opened his mouth, preparing to speak, before Chuck interrupted him. 'Yes. I want you to come. It's in California. I'll text you the details. Be there by day after tomorrow. And I had a vision of you here, so don't even try to avoid coming.'

Dean hissed and slammed the phone shut when the dial tone sounded. Across the friggin country to California it is. But first, he had a call to make.

Castiel was in the forest again when the prayer came. '_Yo, Cas, you got your ears on? If ya do, I need you to meet me in California.' _Cas's attention turned to the Winchester as he rattled off the address of the convention center. With a though, he was there.

And the one and only Chuck was standing in front of him.

"Chuck?" The angel's tone was as surprised as it could get. The prophet whipped around, startled, at the sudden presence of the trench-coat clad man behind him.

"C-Castiel? How did you find me?" Chuck's eyes were wide with surprise and the slightest light of fear danced within them.

"I didn't. Dean sent me here. I thought you were dead." Chuck chuckled and shook his head.

"Just go the angel warding crap Sam and Dean had tattooed onto my back." Cas raised an eyebrow. Must look weird to have Enochian inked permanently into your back.

"So why did Dean send me here? I'm assuming you'd know." The prophet's gaze dropped and he chuckled again.

"A fan put together another convention. I decided Dean and Sam should probably come. Didn't know you'd be here, though." A nod from the angel.

"You do know Sam's dead, right? Even I can't get him out of where he is now, and trust me, I tried." Chuck opened his mouth to speak, though nothing came out. The prophet was speechless.

"W-what do you mean, Sam's dead?" Castiel sighed and shook his head.

"Exactly what I said. I can't get him out of where he is. I can't even find him. I don't know if he's in heaven or hell or what. He might even be in purgatory for all we know, even though it's unlikely." Cas sighed. "Try not to mention it around Dean. He's still not over it." Chuck nodded, a solemn expression overtaking his features.

"So what is this convention you're talking about?" Chuck turned back around to face the large glass building.

"It's where fans of things gather in a big place like this and buy stuff and talk and things like that. It's actually really fun. This one has a cosplay contest. You and Dean should really enter, you'd win without even trying." Cas hummed and nodded.

"Well, uh, I have stuff to do, so why don't you walk around for a while and look at stuff? The con doesn't start until tomorrow." Another nod from the angel.

**22 hours later. 9:35 am. Start of the second SupernaturalCon.**

Dean groaned as he pulled into the convention center's parking only to see multiples of his car. Again. God, these fans were annoying. And, as usual, there were multiple dickheads wearing leather jackets, trench coats, and denim-ish jackets.

He hadn't heard from Cas, but he assumed he'd be here, because, well, angel.

It took some navigating to get to the front door where everyone was entering from, and a shitton of time to get through the line. Luckily, Chuck was there to ok him so he didn't have to waste an hour getting a ticket.

"So what's this all about?" Dean growled to the prophet, eyes narrowing at the overweight trench-coated neckbeard man who had just winked at him.

"It was a fan. A very rich, very powerful fan." Dean sighed, irritated, "Is Cas here?" He asked. Chuck nodded. "He was looking around yesterday. Don't know where he is now."

Just as he spoke, they both heard the sound of flapping wings and suddenly the angel was behind them. Both the prophet and the hunter whipped around, startled, when Castiel tapped both of their shoulders simultaneously.

"Dammit, Cas! If you're gonna flap in, do it in front of us, not behind us!"

Chuck let out a low laugh at Dean's reaction. Dean responded by glaring at him. Castiel cleared his throat.

"Dean? This is confusing me. Why are there so many people dressing up like us?" Dean shrugged and looked at Chuck. The prophet scoffed in an "it's not my fault" sort of way.

"So, uh, I have to go to a panel. Have fun and don't shoot anyone." And with that, Chuck was turning around and walking away. Dean raised an irritated eyebrow and turned to Cas.

"What now?" Castiel furrowed his brow.

"He said there was a cosplay contest. He also said we'd win without even trying." A sigh from Dean, and then a reluctant 'fine' and they were on their way to the room it was in.

They got there just as people were being seated to watch and the last-minute contestants were entering. 'Remember The Name' was playing in the background, probably from some dude who hooked up his phone to the speakers on the stage.

Dean smirked. "Wow. Looks like we have some worthy competition," he said, eyeing a genderbent version of himself. Castiel raised an eyebrow and began heading towards the person holding the sign up clipboard thing.

When they got there, the line was only three people so the wait was relatively short-lived. When they got to the front, the girl (who was apparently trying to cosplay as Charlie) hummed in approval when they wrote down their names before saying a quick "good luck, even though you won't need it" and ushered them to the stage. They were the last ones to enter, and therefore the last ones to go.

The first cosplayer to go was a slightly chubby female Castiel with too-bright contacts. Castiel scoffed and folded his arms, something Dean would've done, but he was too busy eyeing the next, a curvy, tan, almost-redheaded female version of him. There were several catcalls when she came up, did a hair-flip, and whipped around to go back to backstage.

The third was a short Sam with black contacts and a serrated demon-blade look-alike made of foam and drenched in dark red paint. The fourth, fifth, and sixth were Dean, Sam, and Cas. The Castiel had little white wings strapped onto his back.

The rest were some other non-major characters like Charlie, Balthazar, Uriel, and even a Lucifer.

And then they were called. "John and Mike Smith?" Called the woman, using the first aliases that came to mind when she asked for their names. Dean nodded to Cas and began his walk to the stage.

He had no idea why he was doing this, but he heard the prize was fifty bucks and a gift card to a place that sold Philly cheesecakes, so hey, why not.

Him and Cas were the only partner display, and the only ones who had the tattoos. When Dean pulled the collar of his shirt down and Cas lifted up his shirt to reveal their tattoos, they got a surprising amount of cheers, the loudest being from a group of girls near the front.

And then it was over. The judges were discussing winners, and ten minutes later, their aliases were said again and they walked up to collect the prize.

An hour later, Dean and Castiel were chilling out at one of the tables in the food court, with Dean on the laptop looking at fanfiction and Cas was reading one of the books. They had gotten many compliments and a few phone numbers, and Dean actually planned on calling a few of them.

And then there was Cas, who had been swarmed by that group of girls, all asking for photos and giving him their skypes and tumblrs and some shit like that. One of them actually asked to get a 'destiel' picture of them kissing. Dean objected but Cas pulled him over and kissed his cheek long enough for the girl to get a picture. When they were out of sight, he was gone. Ten minutes later, the angel was back, hair and face wet as if he had dived into an ocean while he was out. Knowing him, he probably had.

They'd gone to the last 20 minutes of a panel, and that turned out to be boring as shit. Something about UFO's and alien feces.

So they came to the food court, where Dean got one of the best burgers he'd had since Philadelphia and Cas got a cup of coffee for some reason.

Absolutely nothing was happening besides a few groups of people walking around and talking about the books when a familiar face slid into a chair next to Dean.

"Hey Dean!" She said, a huge grin on her face. "And is this Cas, I wonder?" She asked, glancing at the angel.

Dean groaned and Cas tensed. "Becky, why are you here?"

"Well, because it's a SupernaturalCon! Why wouldn't I? Where's Sammy?" Dean sent her a death glare and went back to his laptop. "Uhm.. Cas?" The angel sighed and glanced at Dean.

"Sam is dead. Even I don't know where he is." Becky gaped, eyes widening.

"O-oh my god. I-is De-are you okay, Dean?" She stuttered, eyes moistening. Dean proceeded to ignore her and pack up his laptop.

"Cas, we're going." Castiel cast an apologetic glance at the blonde and slid the book over to her before getting up and following Dean out of the convention center.

They were on the road within ten minutes. They had managed to push their way out and find the car with ease, to both Dean and Cas's surprise. They were heading straight to the bunker, not even bothering to check out of their empty hotel room.


	4. Not an upd8

There won't be an update this week, I'm afraid. I just managed to grab my aunt's phone to write this message and upload it, but I'm gonna be at my grandparent's for the weekend. I'll upload on Monday or Tuesday if I can! See you later, lovelies~


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